#AmericanWriters
Las’ time 'at Uncle Sidney come, He bringed a watermelon home— An’ half the boys in town, Come taggin’ after him.—An’ he Says, when we et it,—_'Gracious m…
'Best time to kill a hog’s when he… Mostly folks is law-abidin’ Down on Wriggle Crick—, Seein’ they’s no Squire residin’ In our bailywick;
Hey, Old Midsummer! are you here… With all your harvest-store of old… Vast overhanging meadow-lands of r… And drowsy dawns, and noons when g… Nods in the sun, and lazy truant b…
The world is turned ag’in’ me, And people says, 'They guess That nothin’ else is in me But pure maliciousness!' I git the blame for doin’
When snow is here, and the trees l… And the knuckled twigs are gloved… When the breath congeals in the dr… And the old pathway to the barn is… When the rooster’s crow is sad to…
Wunst I sassed my Pa, an’ he Won’t stand that, an’ punished me,… Nen when he was gone that day, I slipped out an’ runned away. I tooked all my copper-cents,
There was a curious quiet for a sp… Directly following: and in the fac… Of one rapt listener pulsed the fl… Of the heat-lightning that pent pa… Long ere the crash of speech.—He…
Go, Winter! Go thy ways! We want… The twitter of the bluebird and th… Leaves ever greener growing, and t… Of Summer’s sun—not thine.— Thy sun, which mocks our need of w…
Herr Weiser—! Three-score-years-a… A hale white rose of his country-m… Transplanted here in the Hoosier… And blossomy as his German home— As blossomy and as pure and sweet
'Write me a rhyme of the present t… And the poet took his pen And wrote such lines as the miser… Hide in the hearts of men. He grew enthused, as the poets use…
There! little girl; don’t cry! They have broken your doll, I kno… And your tea-set blue, And your play-house, too, Are things of the long ago;
I’ve ben thinkin’ back, of late, S’prisin’!—And I’m here to state I’m suspicious it’s a sign Of _age_, maybe, or decline Of my faculties,—and yit
‘He is my friend,’ I said,— ‘Be patient!’ Overhead The skies were drear and dim; And lo! the thought of him Smited on my heart—and then
Sometimes I think 'at Parents doe… Things ist about as bad as _us_— Wite 'fore our vurry eyes, at that… Fer one time Pa he scold’ my Ma 'Cause he can’t find his hat;
They meet to say farewell: Their… Of saying this is hard to say—. He holds her hand an Instant, who… Distressed—and she unclasps it slo… He lends his gaze evasively